It's All Your Fault
by thefunkymonkey121
Summary: Those words just kept on repeating over and over in his head. He didn't try to get rid of them. He knew they were true. It was all his fault.
1. Chapter 1

**After having a look at a few of them Paul is Dead rumors (never come across more crap in my life before!) i was inspired to write this. Hope you like!

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_**It's all your fault**_

Those words just kept on repeating over and over in his head. He didn't try to get rid of them. He knew they were true. It was all his fault.

_**It's all your fault**_

He quickly checked his appearance in the mirror before walking out the door. George met him there. George patted him on the back and told him it was going to be all right. But it wasn't. He knew that. Because it was all his own fault.

_**It's all your fault**_

They both got into a long black car. The journey to the church took what seemed forever. When they got there everyone patted him on the back. They told them how sorry they were. But no amount of words could console him. It was all his fault, and he knew it.

_**It's all your fault**_

The parents gave him cold, steely looks. They knew it was his fault too. He just kept his head bowed and tried not to look at them. Just looking at them reminded him of the damage he had done. He would never forgive himself.

_**It's all your fault**_

He looked away as they carried the coffin up to the alter. He didn't pay attention as the priest said whatever he had to say. John patted him on the back. This didn't help in the slightest, because he knew it was all his fault.

_**It's all your fault**_

Everyone came up to shake his hand along with the rest of the family. They kept their voices hushed. He couldn't look them in the eye. He still couldn't believe this had happened, and that it was all his fault.

_**It's all your fault**_

They all went out to the graveyard to watch the coffin being lowered. Grave diggers came over and began to bury it. He picked up a hand full of soil and threw it over the grave as well. It seemed like the right thing to do, seeing as it was all his fault.

_**It's all your fault**_

Rain began to fall, fat and heavy. He watched as people began to file away. A few more of them patted him on the back and told them how sorry they were. In the eyes of some of them he could see they knew it was all his fault as well.

_**It's all your fault**_

Soon only him and John were left by the grave.

"Come on mate, we're getting soaked," John said to him.

He took one last look at the gravestone before turning away. It read:

_Here lies the body of Jane Asher_

_5th April 1946 - 9th November 1966_

_R.I.P_

It was all his fault. He knew that it was all he, Paul McCartney's, fault. Him and his idiotic driving.

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**Can I just say this is a _very_ hard story to write when you seem to have an inability to spell the word 'fault'. Just throwing it out there, you know. Tell me what you think people!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, this part is a kind of backstory as to what happened. It's a little on the gory side of thins, but not _that_ bad. At least i think it's not that bad!

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**There was nothing he could do now. It was done. He had killed her. He had been angry. He had been driving fast. The lorry, it had come out of nowhere. He had tried to avoid it, swerving to the side, only to hit a lamppost. He had managed to save himself when he remembered Jane. But it was too late.

The car had burst into flames. Jane was inside, screaming 'LET ME OUT' at the top of her lungs. He could see her desperately trying to open the door, but her fingers were broken. He wanted to move, to help her, but he was rooted to the spot. It just seemed so surreal. He wanted it to be a dream, but at the back of his mind he knew this was all really happening.

He had then heard the fire engines coming. But he paid them no attention. He was still watching Jane's attempts to get out. Now her hair had caught fire.

It was burning up towards her head slowly. The flames licked their was through her red hair, burning it till it was no more. Jane was in their, crying, trying her utmost to get out. But she couldn't. She was trapped inside that white car. She would never escape. He wanted to help her, but he couldn't. Some invisible force was keeping him back.

What happened next surprised everyone. Just as the fire engine was about to try put out the fire, the car exploded. Then all had been silent, except for the slow crackle of the flames.

He had made his way through the wreckage of what had once been his car to try find Jane. It was a childish hope that she would still be alive, but he didn't care. He shoved a lump of burning hot metal out of the way, burning his hands in doing so. Then he saw the body. He had to turn his head away from what remained of Jane.

Her body was lying on the ground surrounded by a pool of blood. But the blood wasn't just coming from any old cut. Oh no, the blood was coming out of the hole at the top of her neck where her head should've been. She had been decapitated.

Her head lay a few feet to the right. The hair had been completely burnt off. A last scream was still frozen of her face. A single one of her hands lay beside it. A pool of blood surrounded them also.

Someone had then come over to him. It was a policeman. The man convinced him to come back to the police station with him.

He had spent the whole journey with his head buried in his hands. It was all his fault. He knew that now. When they had gotten to the police station, the policeman had called Brian. Brian had come and picked him up. Neither of them spoke the whole way back to the studio.

When they had got there, Brian had made a few calls. He told Paul that everything had been covered up. No one need know, except those who were close to Jane.

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But that would never help him. It was too late, he thought as he took another sip of his tea. There was no way of going into the past and stopping all this from happening. Jane was gone for good.


End file.
